11.27.2013

red & blue

I am never working on only one project. I've often wondered if I could work that way - purposefully, constrained, planned, controlled - but I have yet to try. Currently I am switching on and off between simple and complex. I spent a long time on my first mokume shibori, carefully experimenting, trying to be patient and diligent. Meanwhile I'm simultaneously planning some exceedingly simple projects: stripped down quilts, wholecloth, simple stitches, hand-tied. I am always drawn to materials in their purest, calmest forms. I fall in love with the texture of a weave, or the variations in a color. But I have a tendency to over-work, and over-design. It's a habit I haven't learned how to break, so I am focusing on this earnestly in my next few projects, and hope to create something that feels more true to my aesthetic. Isn't it strange how that isn't necessarily easy - to create within the rules of your own aesthetic?

Looking around the studio recently I realized there are innumberable little vignettes of red and blue. If you had asked me directly if this was a color combination that I like or prefer, I doubt I would have said yes. But I am drawn to it over and over again, using it frequently - and planning at least three new projects in primarily just these colors. How have I not noticed this before? It's like Susan has said: sometimes the source of our inspiration seems a mystery, in our periphery, on the edge of our awareness.

In fact so much of ourselves exists this way, at the edge of our awareness. Today while listening to some of my favorite meditation music I was overcome with weeping. I have no idea why. No specific sadness made itself known; no particular wound surfaced. But I was helpless to fight it, and I gave myself up to it. I sobbed. I am grateful; I felt a great deal of relief.

The body holds things, often unbeknownst to us. We carry things around. Heavy things. Sometimes we are lucky enough that our body can tell us when it's time to put them down. I believe we have to learn to listen to our bodies; maybe we knew, maybe we were born knowing, but I believe most of us forget. I am trying to learn again.

Am I being a preachy New-Age hippie? I suppose am I. I've been accused of thinking I know what's best for other people. I certainly don't mean to sound like I know what is better or best for anyone - I often worry whether I'll ever even learn this about myself. This time of year has historically been hard for me, and I have never really pinned down why. I used to blame it on the dead trees, but where I live now, the trees don't die. Either way, if you want to have a good cry - don't we all sometimes? - I recommend that song.

We are spending this happy, American, food-centric holiday with family. I hope you are, too. Travel safely. And those of you not in the U.S., I hope you indulge yourselves anyway. Bake your favorite thing, cook a giant hot meal, put a candle on your table if you have one. A candle, that is. I assume you all have a table. Oomph, ha, fun with grammar. I had to try something, this post was headed downhill fast. GO! EAT! Be MERRY! Cry your hearts out later.